He's a scoundrel, young Brad Pitt, who led me, his elderly colleague, astray more than once.

I wish to hazard my soul to opportunity.

Not everyone can become a great artist; but a great artist *can* come from *anywhere*.

I did quite enjoy the days when one went for a beer at one's local in Paris and woke up in Corsica.

I tell my children to avoid theatre and go into cinema and TV.

I woke up one morning to find I was famous. I bought a white Rolls-Royce and drove down Sunset Boulevard, wearing dark specs and a white suit, waving like the Queen Mum.

People're artists they're doing something, taking a hunk of chaps, giving it some order, some form, and presenting it saying here is my little song and dance, my chaos.